


There is no God amongst these mortals. Or Hero.

by AvidFanfictionReader



Series: DreamSMP Drabbles [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:07:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvidFanfictionReader/pseuds/AvidFanfictionReader
Summary: Tommy thinks of his God standing before him in all the glory that shimmers behind him. Wonders if he can maim him just like his God did to him, or at least take and take until his God is on his knees and begging like Tommy has done so many times prior. Instead Tommy's shirt soaks with blood and his eyes flutter tiredly as his God rampages and sobs. The mask is gone and yet all Tommy can see is the blank slate of green appearing where there should be liveliness in those pupils.Or where we take a dive in Tommy's mind about the puppeteer of the Dream SMP and how it affects him.(Just wanted to clarify, the God is just a symbol I used because I thought it befitting)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: DreamSMP Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193003
Kudos: 8





	There is no God amongst these mortals. Or Hero.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not beta-ed at all so my apologizes. I don't know if I will write more due solely to the fact I'm not even actually caught up or knowledge on the lore. I just know some things and heard about others is all. So, one again, sorry if anything is inaccurate but I will not be changing it. If this does do well though, I'll consider writing more lol.

There is no god to be found.

It’s one of the first things that Tommy learns and its gut wrenching in its nature. He stands before the destruction of a kingdom previously full of glory and wit. He watches on as their supposed God glares from above his tower, where he lays in wait and in safety. It’s a funny thing, Tommy remembers thinking, that a God needs to have safety despite their power being so vast they can live centuries no matter the wound they receive. Perhaps in some other lifetime… some other timeline that Tommy cannot comprehend, their God had lost his heart in some battle. That someone had stolen from him like he has stolen from Tommy, something that was _once _everything. Though it doesn't explain the looks his God gives to the mortal beside him, the mortal he’d move nether and sky for. It doesn't matter, not when there’s nowhere to go anymore because some being better then him decided it so despite the begging and the tears that came from Tommy. Hope was a fools option he’d chosen and now he had to live with the consequences. There is no god...at least not one that’s just or kind. The pain doesn't stop, especially not when Eret has plunged a sword through his chest whilst God looks over the man’s shoulders. Physical wounds nothing like the agony that comes after, the turmoil and distraught such a betrayal brings. All because of _God _.____

____The second time Tommy kneels in the midst of destruction, he feels a hollow satisfaction swarm beneath his skin and seep into his bones. Because even God is surprised and horrified, it’s karma for the explosions he rained down on Tommy the first time around, a repeating of a cycle started all because of him. Yet the sight of Wilbur breaks his very soul, leaving Tommy feeling barren and vulnerable. As though his whole body has transformed inside out to allow those to bare witness the anger boiling through his ribs and the despair clutching his heart. He wonders if they can see his sick and misplaced satisfaction fluttering alive at his sternum regardless of the hopelessness shadowing by. When Wilbur dies there is no funeral. There is never a time of mourning for a villian no matter their previous actions. It doesn't matter that Wilbur had been a hero to many… to Tommy; his body is left to rot. There are still flowers placed by the body and Tommy doesn't answer anybody's questions of who does it. Not even when Philza sees him place the pink and red carnations stark against the grey of the floor and black of the skin peeling its way off._ _ _ _

____Breathing requires no thought at all anymore, because he’s been through this more than once. Betrayal topped off with more betrayal, a never ending loop that appears before Tommy’s eyes in mockeries and screams of terror. He wants to save for all that the ending of those with the title of hero is. It doesn't matter when there is no God. Because his God is a villain, a monster dressed as a human, acting like the rest of them even when he pulls the strings taut in rage behind the stage. So he needs to save and save and save until his fingers bleed and till his death leaves nothing but his bones behind, just like Wilbur. He won’t become a villain, Tommy tells himself, he chants it at night when no one is around; it feels like a lie no matter how many times it’s slipped from his mouth. The phrase hangs in the air like a noose slinking its way around Tommy’s neck. He says it anyways. It comforts him when Tubbo has reached for the hand of another type of monster. This time around Tommy remembers something important that he’s forgotten along the lines of god caused tragedy, that even humans morph into monsters….at least Schlatt used to be human. Not anymore when the creature’s yellow eyes look upon Tubbo like a feast to be partaken in, a prey that’s soon to meet its very end if it continues along its path. Tubbo does not stir and turn away from the predator in front of him but instead opens his arms wide and hugs his very own god. Schlatt is not a god like their God is, schlatt could never dream of attaining the power their God has, it’s why Tubbo is the only one who refers to him as such and why the name does not hold any fear and dread. They are all fools. There is no God, there will never be a God, there never was a God in the first place. Tommy sits along the sidelines and watches the madness take form._ _ _ _

____God snatches his wrist and offers a comadrie that Tommy cannot refuse if he wants to win in the end. He throws up and withers in the nights afterwards when he replies back with a simple yes. Tommy watches as God grins through the mask adorned on his face or semblance of one. When God is gone and Tommy is left alone again, he takes a glance at his wrist, fingers marred into his skin with what Tommy presumes is permanence. Purple, blue, and black hues paint disgusting twisted figures from his hand to the top of his forearm. It doesn't go away for weeks and even then, there’s a ghost touch of the power making itself known that keeps Tommy staring at the ghostly imprint._ _ _ _

____Bloods pours and spills from everywhere and anywhere it can, wherever the item makes contact with. It appears swiftly and flutters across the small room. Anger radiates from his God as the red makes contact with the clock, crazed words falling from his God’s lips as he screams that the clock is his and that Tommy cannot have it, that Tommy cannot mark it with his tainted and ugly blood. It doesn't stop, it nevers stops. Pleas and screams go unanswered as Tommy tries to crawl away, closer to where Sam is, closer where someone, anyone, can save him from this foul beast of a thing. Over and done with, his God cackles and laughs without sanity, tears streaming from beneath the mask and mixing with blood. Blood blood blood. Covering his vision as it blurs and falters against the black consuming Tommy’s surroundings. Thoughts float briefly and tiredly in his mind, he wonders if he cried harder, begged louder, screamed till the walls were shattered if his God would have hesitated. Hesitated for brief moments and given Tommy respite. Wondering if his God would have finally shown him mercy. Knees make contact into Tommy’s side as hands pat him awkwardly with coos meant to soothe flowing out of his God’s mouth. A second held in time. Tommy can see God’s face but only really focus on the green of his eyes. They’re blank. Representing the soul that belongs in a body that should have been buried six feet under eons ago._ _ _ _

____There is no God and Tommy is no hero._ _ _ _

____There’s only Dream and a boy named Tommy huddled in this endless void of a prison cell as the latter’s eyes grow lifeless before the muted color of green._ _ _ _

____There was never a God._ _ _ _


End file.
